some ranting, some raving
09.19.02 @ 2:53 p.m.
I was reading Margie Boule's column in the Oregonian today, and she went off about how Californians all think Oregonians hate Californians but that it isn't true... anymore. I think the real issue is that Oregonians blame immigrating Californians for urban growth and crowding. Margie herself is a Californian, as is my mother. They wouldn't have that animosity. I admit that I do, a little. I wish people wouldn't move here. I like it the way it is, or even a bit less crowded. I get uneasy about the steady creep of suburbia toward my home. At any rate, we're the only state in the Union that has fewer native residents than non-native. Some people just don't like the rain, I can dig that. I, personally, hate Californian weather with a passion, so you won't see me taking up residence in SoCal anytime soon. Or ever, probably.
What shocked me about the column was that a New Yorker asked Margie where Oregon was. HOW THE HELL DO YOU NOT KNOW WHERE ONE OF THE STATES IS? Seriously! I mean, if you were from another country, sure, but damn! It's a big state! For all the rest of the country seems to care, California could go on straight up to Washington. Or even Canada, if Frasier didn't take place in Seattle. Damn. And I always thought I was being silly when I got excited when Oregon or Portland was mentioned in something.
Enough tirade. Margie herself makes me think of the second time I worked as a phone volunteer at a PBS pledge drive. She's sneaky, that newspaper columnist. She told us that if there weren't calls coming, we should slyly pick up the phone, just enough to get a dial tone, dial the studio number, let it ring twice, and hang up. That's the kicker, letting it ring twice. Phone volunteers are always instructed to let the phone ring twice before picking it up, so you can hear it on TV. When the show is actually on, most people take their phones off the hook and go crowd into the hall for snacks (kettle chips, blargh) and drinks or over to the discount OPB merchandise table. I have a very nice denim shirt that says OPB on the chest and a "Lend an Ear to Public Radio" Vincent Van Gogh sweatshirt. Woohoo pledge drives. Normally I hate them, but I'd really like to work one again.
Not that we had to call the studio much. The first time I did it, the place was dead. It was some horrible financial program. BORING. The second time was a Sir Elton John concert. Sweet. And they rerun that one, so I get seen sometimes. It just so happened that I had to sit in the front, center seat. I couldn't help it. It was the only seat left. I never did watch it, though I think we have a tape of it. Anyway, I know it was rerun because my neighbors saw and recognized me and were confused because I was in Eugene at the time. "Hey... That's Ellen!" Heh heh.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
